


don't ask

by amandaskankovich



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 04:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26346859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaskankovich/pseuds/amandaskankovich
Summary: Roman will do anything Gerri wants. Except that one thing.(Sex)
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	don't ask

**Author's Note:**

> Our boy's canonically sex repulsed. Let's tiptoe through that.

He couldn’t make himself say it out loud. He wanted her to make him say it. If she told him to say it, he would. Anything she wanted him to do he’d do. If she told him to jump out a window and fly to the moon he’d believe her. He’d be flapping his arms until he hit the ground. But she wouldn’t make him and he couldn’t ask her. That wasn’t how this went.

How this went. “This”. Whatever this was going to be. Going to be? It was happening. It was merrily going the fuck along. They were in it. Whatever it was it already was. Choo choo, the train’s left the station.

So what the fuck was it? 

He’d been fluttering around her all day like a hummingbird on speed. She had things to do. Important things. Important money related things. He was in her office.

“Calm down,” she told him. Her voice was as soft as a new born baby's skull.

He wanted to calm down for her. 

“What do I do?” And he tried to make it sound casual. Like if he had gum he’d blow a bubble right there. He imagined it going pop!

“What do you do? You need me to tell you what to do? Can you not imagine a single option that isn’--”

If he had the patience or if he was the kind of loser who wrote down things after they happened to get insight into them maybe he’d write down what went on inside his head when she spoke to him like this. When she looked at him and she spoke to him and she told him exactly what he needed to hear. There was a click in his brain. There was a switch being turned off. People didn’t get it. How his brain was always going going going go go go all the time and loud, loud, loud, and bright bright bright all the time. She pulled off the top of his skull and she flipped a switch and the buzzing stopped. It went quiet.  
“I want you to sit down on that chair and you’re not going to move until I tell you to.” 

So he sat down in a chair.

And he didn’t move until she told him to.

It was the easiest thing in the world to know exactly what you needed to do. To give her that in exchange for the quiet.

***  
The thing he wanted her to make him say was the thing no one had ever actually made him say.

They all had their words for it. They all had their ideas of why. They all thought they’d figured him out. But they didn’t know a fucking thing.

She knew though.

She knew everything.

She’d make sense of him.

She’d solve him.

“I’m not some all knowing all seeing deity.” She told him.

“Bullshit the fuck you aren’t.” He replied. 

They’d grabbed a drink together. Like normal human people do. And now they were waiting for the rain while he tried to light a cigarette. It was almost like role play. Play acting at being people.

Well for him anyway. She was already a person.

The deity remark came when they’d walked out of the bar and the rain had started not two seconds later. The car she’d ordered hadn’t arrived yet. It would soon enough but it hadn’t beat the rain.

“You’re slacking Ger’,” He’d told her, “You’re losing your mojo.”  
“Oh shut up.” She said.

And then that line about not being a deity. Like it was just some casual thing. She’d just say things like that sometimes like it was just no big deal to go around talking like she did. 

No one said things like her. No one. She always said the right thing. Not the “appropriate” thing but the thing that was the perfect thing to say.

“You’re a sexy super genius sentient computer,” He told her. 

The car came. The rain stopped. 

He never managed to light the cigarette.

***

He became obsessed with the idea of smoking weed with her the second he found out it was something he could do.

At some stupid party in some stupid crowd while he spied on her in the shadows or tried to before some waiter came up and offered him a glass of champagne and she’d looked up and seen him stare.

He took the glass mostly to have something to do with his hands. Anyway what he’d overheard before the interruption was an admission from her that she’d, “partook in her college days, of course’ and they’d all laughed ‘oh to be young!’ he almost said. Almost held his glass up. Almost demanded a toast.

A toast to what? A toast for why? He swore sometimes he lived his life like he was someone’s eternal court jester.

But she’d left the crowd and walked over to him. She tapped her empty champagne glass. He switched out his full for her empty without a second thought.

She sipped it.

“Wanna get high?” He asked her.

Her eyes got wide. She smirked. Not a smile, a smirk. Perfect.

****  
Now they were in her home. In her bed. He’d unzipped her dress. He took off her heels. 

“I’m going to take a bath,” She told him.

“With bubbles?” He asked like an excited puppy.

“Oh were you going to be joining me?” She asked.

He hadn’t been planning to but...the thought made his thoughts go...static.

“Roman?” she asked looking at him concerned. He’d gone too long without saying anything. “You don’t have to.” She replied.

He still couldn’t talk. She stared at him and then said, “In fact I would prefer you didn’t. The tub’s only big enough for me. You can stay out here and wait for me.”

Thank you. He wanted to say.

Instead he just nodded and sat on the floor by the foot of her bed and waited for her to come out.

***  
She put on a nightgown and he took off his shoes and his socks. He wiggled his toes in her soft sheets.

“Alright Cheech,” she said, “let’s get this over with.”

He picked up the joint and the lighter he’d placed on her nightstand.

She inhaled and exhaled without a hint of a cough.

“I’m a grown up Roman,” she reminded him.

And he loved her.

***  
They were high. Everything felt good. He wrapped himself around her like a spider monkey.

“You smell like God,” He told her.

“Whatever that means,” she replied and she laughed.

“Thank you for not making me have sex with you.” He told her.  
“Yeah,” she replied, “No problem. But I was never going to fuck you in the tub Roman. That was never going to happen.”

“It wasn’t?” He asked.

“Why would I do that to you?” She replied.

“Isn’t it what...people do?” He asked her.

“Since when are we people?” She replied.

She knew everything. Everything, everything, everything, everything. Even high.

He was going to start a cult in her honor in the morning.

*****  
When they were a little less high but still not completely sober he started to explain himself to her.

What he’d planned to say was, “It’s not that I’m not attracted to you. I’m very attracted to you. I want to crawl inside your body and sleep there for the winter. I want to learn how to paint and then paint portrait after portrait of just you. I want to live inside your brain and eat your memories until I know everything about you from birth until now. I want to steal your underwear but I respect you enough to not do that. I want to make you pancakes.”

“Oh my god Roman. Take a breath.”

He didn’t know at what point he’d started talking out loud but...well...in for a penny…

“It’s just sex...I’ve tried to...want it but when I try to do it….it just always kind of makes me feel like I want to die?”

She didn’t say anything. He kept talking.

“I hate it. It’s...wet.”

She reached over and covered his mouth with her hand.

“I’m going to say this once chucklefuck and then never again. I wouldn’t have sex with you if you begged me.”

He smiled beneath her fingers. He licked the inside of her hand.

It tasted like soap and sweat. 

Salt and sweet.


End file.
